


The Great Dragon

by Taybay14



Series: Saving people, writing prompts [23]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Angst with a Happy Ending, Dean's a hybrid (Dragon/Human), Dragon Dean Winchester, Dragons, Knights - Freeform, Legends, Magic, Prince Castiel (Supernatural), Prompt Fill, True Love, medieval times
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-27
Updated: 2019-06-27
Packaged: 2020-05-20 14:48:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19378891
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Taybay14/pseuds/Taybay14
Summary: All Prince Castiel wants to do is kill a dragon and prove to his father that he's worthy of the crown. Unfortunately for him, the one dragon he decides to fight is the one of legends, transforming into a human last minute. Instead of defeating a dragon, Castiel gets stuck with a naked and confused human with no memory and no realization he's a dragon. Will Castiel be able to keep the secret from this man? Especially once he starts to fall in love with him?Tumblr Prompt Fill:Hi, I love a lot of your stories especially You’re so Bad. I was wondering if you could work your magic on this prompt: Cas is a young prince out to fight a dragon. But once he defeats the dragon it transforms into a beautiful naked man named Dean with no memory. Cas takes him back his castle. Overtime they soon fall in love. But when Dean learns of his past he is furious. He turns back into a dragon and flies off leaving Cas heartbroken. - longkissgoodnightbatmanandtwofac** I've never written anything fantasy-esque before (unless you count canon supernatural), so this was an exciting challenge for me. I ended up writing way more than I probably should have but oh well. Thank you!





	1. Chapter 1

 

“Come on you son of a bitch!” Castiel screams, blue eyes narrowed in rage at the dark green dragon perched on the roof of the abandoned farmhouse in the field where they’re battling. It’s right wing is bleeding profusely. The strong breaths from his nostrils and mouth are sizzling out before fire can catch, the holy oil Castiel threw on him working effectively. All Castiel needs is the dragon to come in reach again. Just a little closer and he can - 

 

With a hoarse roar, the dragon descends. It flaps its wings, but the injured one throws it off balance, tilting the dragon as it approaches. It’s the perfect angle for Castiel to stab his sword between the dragon’s light green armored belly and the injured wing, right into the vulnerable fleshy space between. His sword pierces the dark green skin that’s freckled with light green spots. Gripping it with both hands, Castiel throws all his weight into shoving the sword deeper inside the dragon, digging beneath the armor as far as possible. 

 

The dragon screeches and kicks out at him before he can make sure he’s reached the heart. He goes flying back, the sword staying imbedded in the dragon’s body. His heart races as he watches the dragon thrash around in a panic. Something in Castiel’s gut twists as he watches the beautiful creature die so painfully. It’s not sitting right with him. But he grits his teeth, and forces himself to watch. He did this to prove to his father that he’s not weak. That he can be a great king one day. 

 

The air suddenly crackles with what feels like a lightning storm to Castiel, followed by the sound of sinew and flesh ripping and reshaping. He blinks once as the dragon becomes a green blur against the grass. When he opens his eyes, the dragon has vanished. All that’s left is a misshapen lump of flesh that’s human colored. 

 

“Yuck,” Castiel grumbles, staring at the heap from across the field. Even though he doesn’t want to see what must be a pile of blood, and guts, and who knows what else, his curiosity gets the better of him. His heart starts to race again when he realizes he was wrong. 

 

“Holy shit,” he whispers under his breath. Then he sprints as fast as he can, falling to his knees beside the naked man lying in the grass, Castiel’s sword by his side. His right arm is bleeding. So is his chest. He keeps trying to huff out breaths but they’re erratic and harsh. Weak. Castiel panics. “Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. What’s happening?” 

 

Castiel starts to hover his hands over the naked body. Not because he has magic or any sort of healing powers, but because he can’t just sit and do nothing. It was one thing to watch a beast die. It’s another thing when it’s a human. A beautiful, naked human at that. 

 

That crackling in the air from earlier returns and Castiel watches in shock as the injuries begin to heal on their own, leaving behind bloody skin with no cuts to blame the mess on. 

 

“What. The. Actual. Fuck.” Castiel rests his ass on his heels, relaxing on his knees as he watches the man’s breathing slow and even out. His skin pinks up, making the smattering of freckles along his skin more prominent. Castiel can’t help but notice that the freckles are in the exact same spots on his body as the small light green dots were on the dragon’s otherwise dark green skin. 

 

None of the stories mentioned this part. His father certainly didn’t. Not even the palace magician, whose son and apprentice is Castiel’s best friend. 

 

All of his panicked thoughts about what’s happening and what he should do vanish when he looks at the dragon - no, human? - dragon/human? -  _ It _ . The thoughts vanish as he looks at  _ it’s  _ face. Impossibly green eyes are staring up at him, wide in both fear and wonder. 

 

“What - What’s goin’ on?” it asks, disoriented. 

 

“Um. Well,” Castiel scratches the back of his head. “What do you - uh - what do you remember?”

 

“I - I don’t -” the eyes flutter shut, like it’s trying to think hard. Castiel can’t help but notice how cute this - it - no, man.  _ Man _ . How cute this young  _ man  _ looks when he’s concentrating. Eventually, he opens his eyes again, looking at Castiel and shaking his head. “I remember feelings. Being hungry. Cold. Afraid. And - and - this woman - this woman’s voice.”

 

“What’s she saying?”

 

“Be strong, Dean,” he whispers, eyes flicking around like he’s searching for the woman.

 

“Nothing else?” Castiel asks, hope blooming in his chest.  _ Does Dean not remember anything? At all? Could that be possible? Maybe Castiel could bring him back to the castle? He’d take care of him. He’d never have to know the truth behind their meeting.  _

 

Dean looks around the field again, then down at himself. His pale cheeks turn bright pink. “Oh god! Definitely don’t remember why I’m naked. I’m - I’m so sorry! Did you - like - did I come here with you? Did we - uh -”

 

“Oh! No! No, no. Not at all. I was,” Castiel stumbles, eyes darting from the sword covered in blood to Dean’s bloody, yet uninjured chest. “You tripped on my sword. I was - uh - I was resting after a hunt and my sword was lying in the grass. You tripped on it and hit your head pretty hard.”

 

Dean’s eyebrows pull in, but he says nothing. “I’m sorry you got the blood on you.” 

 

“Oh, no. Don’t apologize. I’m sorry for tripping over your sword. And sorry for being - well - ya know, naked.”

 

Castiel watches as Dean curls up into a ball, making sure his private area is covered. Not wanting him to get too uncomfortable, Castiel tries to calm him. “Don’t worry about it, Dean. Don’t worry about any of this. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

 

Pushing to his feet, Castiel points to the tree line beside them and says, “My horse is tied to a tree over there. I have a cloak in my saddle bag. You can borrow it if you’d like.”

 

“Oh. Sure. Yes. Thank you.”

 

They walk in a tense silence for a few steps, but then Dean’s confusion and curiosity wins over his shyness. “Are you a knight?”

 

Castiel looks down at his armor with his house’s sigil on the chest plate. “Um - well -  _ sort of. _ ”

 

“And you were hunting?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“With a sword? Not a bow and arrow?”

 

“Yes. Yeah. I was hunting a,” Castiel can't think fast enough, so he ends up blurting, “A dragon!”

 

Dean's eyes get huge. “A dragon!? Those are dangerous! You should have brought help!”

 

“I managed.”

 

“Wait.” Dean stops walking, scanning the forest they just entered. “Where is it? Did you get it?”

 

“Injured it, but then it flew off.”

 

“Wow.” Dean grins at him like a small child. “A dragon.  _ Wow _ . That's so cool. What was it like?”

 

Castiel's eyes skim over the young man and his mouth pours out the truth. “Beautiful.” 

  
  


\-----

  
  


It isn’t until Castiel is sneaking Dean through one of the secret passageways that Dean pipes up to ask in a near squeak, “Where are we going?”

 

“Home.”

 

“But - why through a tunnel?”

 

“Because strolling through the front of the palace with a naked man who doesn’t know who he is or why he’s naked? Not exactly the best idea.”

 

Dean’s feet stutter as he wraps the cloak tighter around himself. “P - palace?”

 

“Yeah. Ya know. Castle. Palace. Fortress. Whatever.”

 

“I-” Dean shakes his head, confused. “I don’t understand. Do you work there? Are you bringing me there to report me?”

 

“No! No, never! You’ll be safe there, I swear.” Castiel takes one of Dean’s hands, squeezing it to comfort him. “I live in the castle. I’m the Prince.”

 

“The Prince!” Dean shouts, tearing his hand away so he can throw it in the air. “I may not know much, but I know I shouldn’t be with the prince. I - I - I’m probably just some poor farm boy or somethin’. I mean, you found me naked in a field! How will the King feel about that?”

 

Castiel tilts his chin up in defiance. “The King will not be finding out about you. Hence the secret passageway.”

 

Big green eyes get impossibly larger. “I don’t want you to have to lie to your father for me.”

 

“Oh, now, that’s funny.” Castiel chuckles to himself, grabbing Dean’s hand and pulling him along the path again. 

 

“What’s funny?”

 

“That you think you’ll be the first thing I lie to my father about. I lie to him every day.”

 

Dean’s hand adjusts in his, but he doesn’t pull away from Castiel, he just seems to hold tighter. “What do you lie to him about?”

 

“Myself. That I’m unhappy. That I’m afraid to be king. That I’m sick of the expectations. That I’m gay.”

 

A silence wraps around them. It’s tense, but comfortable. Like they both understand the severity of their situation, but they both feel safe and happy that they’re experiencing it beside the other. 

 

Eventually, they reach the end of the tunnel, arriving at a heavy wooden door with a lock on it. Castiel takes out a key and unlocks it, then pushes it open. It opens to what looks like an underground cellar or dungeon type room. Dean holds back, suddenly nervous, but with a slight yank on his hand, Castiel has him walking forward again. 

 

“Don’t worry. No one will see you. We’re already almost to my chambers. Just have to go up this staircase.”

 

“What if someone  _ does  _ see me?” Dean asks, his voice shaking.

 

Castiel gives him a reassuring smile. “Then let me handle it. You keep your mouth shut.”

 

Nodding, Dean continues to follow him. They wrap around a spiral staircase that goes up, and up, and up before finally coming to an open corridor. A man stands right at the top of the staircase wearing an outfit similar to Castiel’s, armor shiny as he jerks to look at them. His hand settles on his sword, but he doesn’t pull it out when he sees Castiel. Instead, the older man chuckles. “Third time this week, Cas. I’m startin’ to think you’re getting even sneakier than usual.”

Not looking at all bothered by this person, Castiel just smiles easily and gestures to Dean. “Dean, this is Balthazar. Bal, this is Dean. He’s going to be staying with me for a bit.”

 

“And let me guess, that’s a secret?” Balthazar asks with a smile. 

 

“Yes. Please.” Castiel looks at Dean, laughing softly when he sees that Dean looks terrified and confused. “Dean, Bal won’t ever get us in trouble. He’s the head of my security and the only person who knows about this passageway. He’s who built it for me.” 

 

“Oh.” Dean swallows hard. “Okay. Well, then, nice to meet you.”

 

“And you.” Balthazar eyes Dean up before turning a questioning look on Castiel. “Do you need any help?”

 

“Just clear the main corridor so we can get to my room, please.”

 

With a nod, Balthazar walks down the corridor they’re already in and opens the door at the end. He slips out and leaves them behind but it only takes a minute before he’s knocking softly three times on the door. Castiel opens it and leads Dean through a similar looking corridor. Dean is amazed when he glances behind himself to see nothing but a cement wall like all the others. There’s no indication that a door was ever there. 

 

Before he can ask how that’s possible, he’s being ushered through a door that actually looks like a door from the outside, and into a large chamber that screams elegance and royalty. A long table made of dark wood stretches across the hardwood floor in front of them. It’s decorated with a soft blue table runner, sets of plates and cups and silverware, and a ton of candlesticks. Past it is a living area with a large sofa and two sitting chairs that surround a wood burning fireplace. The wall to their left is made entirely of bookshelves, which are stuffed full of dusty old books that Dean itches to touch, even though he can’t remember if he knows how to read or not.

 

“That will be all, Bal. Thanks.” Castiel nods at him before closing the door to the chambers and sliding a heavy metal lock bar into place. When he turns around, he sees that Dean is no longer beside him. The young man has drifted further into the chambers, toward the dressing area. A large stone basin is in the center of the area, a fluffy towel and some special soap infused with oils placed on a small table beside it. 

 

Castiel stands back, watching as Dean continues to move deeper into the chambers. He approaches the massive bed that Castiel could sleep sideways on if he wanted to. His hands reach out and run along the soft blue drapes that hang from the canopy around the bed. Dean then runs his fingers along the fabric of the large quilt covering the bed. His breath catches. He doesn’t know a lot; barely more than his name and the fact that at one point a woman told him to be strong. He does know, though, that he’s never been somewhere like this. Somewhere so nice. Somewhere beautiful. Somewhere safe. He doesn’t understand how he knows those things, but he does. It’s in his gut and it twists painfully, a voice in his head thrumming  _ YOU DON’T BELONG HERE _ beneath his skull. 


	2. Chapter 2

The next few days are chaotic for Castiel. He’s busy with knight training, ceremonies that require his presence around the city, banquets, hearings, fights with his father. Most days he doesn’t return to his chambers until long after the moon has risen into the sky. Dean’s always sleeping by then. Either passed out on the couch with a soft knitted blanket falling off his body, or slumped in a chair by the fire with a book settled open on his stomach. 

 

Tonight, though, the young man is still awake when Castiel enters his chambers. Sleepy green eyes blink up at him. Castiel can’t help but smile at the sight of Dean. He had been thrilled when he took the first book off the shelf and realized he did in fact know how to read. It surprised Castiel, since many commoners don’t know how, but he hadn’t said that. He didn’t want to make Dean any more confused about himself than he already was. 

 

“Anything new today?” Castiel asks softly, approaching the man sprawled out on the couch. He’s referring to the fact that Dean’s been remembering more and more about himself. Just little things. Dean explains that they come in flashes. He went swimming once and nearly drowned. He must have lived close to a blacksmith, the smell of fire familiar and comforting as he’d fall asleep at night. He can’t remember where he was falling asleep, though. He can’t even remember if he was sleeping on a real bed or a bed of straw. His first kiss was beneath a tree with a boy who had dirty blonde hair. The woman didn’t just say to be strong but to be brave too. He thinks maybe she’s his mom, but that’s just a gut feeling. A flashed memory hasn’t confirmed it yet. 

 

Dean sits up and shrugs a shoulder, letting Castiel know from the beginning that whatever he remembered today didn’t mean much. “I think I was a good hunter. I remember being in the woods. Stalking prey. Smelling the trees. The memory was just after it had rained, and everything smelled fresh, and the grass was bright bright green, and the animals were moving more than usual.”

 

“That sounds nice.”

 

“Yeah, but,” Dean furrows his brows, looking away from Castiel and into the fire crackling in the fireplace. “Something’s wrong about the memory. Like I’m watching it from above. I’m not walking and I don’t have a weapon. It almost feels like I’m flying. So it must not be real.”

 

“Oh.” Castiel bites the tip of his tongue, guilt washing over him. He decides to just change the subject. “Well, I have some good news.”

 

Dean sits straight up with a new rush of energy. “You know who I am?”

 

“Oh, well, uh - no. Not that. Sorry.”

 

“Oh.”

 

“But,” Castiel says with a hint of excitement, trying to make Dean feel better. “I know you’ve been going stir crazy stuck in here all day. I found a way to fix that. You’re going to be my man servant.”

 

Dean frowns. “I’m not sure I know what that is. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, don’t worry about it. It basically means you get my meals, clean up my chambers, bring me things I need. Point is, you go out into the world with me. You’re almost always by my side. Even during fancy banquets and stuff. You’ll be there to pour my wine and help in other ways that I may need.”

 

“Really? You mean I’ll get to leave the room? And I’ll get to interact with other people? And explore the castle? And meet your father? And learn more about the city? And-”

 

“Calm down,” Castiel says, laughing at Dean’s frantic rambling. The young man takes a deep breath and just grins at him, trying to patiently wait. “Yes to all of that. We just need to be careful. Make up a backstory for you so people don’t ask questions.” 

 

“Of course.” Dean smiles but it’s more nervous now. “So, Cas, who do ya want me to be?”

 

It takes a lot for Castiel not to say the truth;  _ mine _ . 

  
  


\-----

  
  


The story is easy enough. Dean is a boy from one of the outlying villages in the kingdom. He’s Balthazar’s nephew and was newly orphaned, so Balthazar asked if he could move here and work for the castle. Since Castiel didn’t have a manservant, and definitely needed one considering how lazy he is, Castiel asked Balthazar if his nephew could fill the position. 

 

Everyone buys it. Even Castiel’s father. Things go smooth. Weeks pass by without incident. Dean learns the ropes. Learns about the castle. Learns about the royal family. Learns about the history of the city, and the villages, and the kingdom as a whole. He also learns legends. The staff, especially the kitchen staff, likes to tell stories of magic, dragons, and prophecies. 

 

He sits in the kitchen now, legs swinging as he waits for Castiel’s dinner to be prepared. The main cook, a woman named Elizabeth, is in the middle of one of these stories right now. Dean’s favorite. He asks for it every time she takes requests. 

 

“- the Great Dragon will be the savior of the dragon race. He holds the power of humanity and dragonhood within himself, his father a dragon and his mother just a poor woman in a village. The only hybrid of his kind. He will be faced with great danger and have to rely on both sides of himself to survive it.”

 

“And how will he save the dragon race?” Dean asks in a rush, even though he knows. It’s just his favorite part of the story and he wants her to get to it already. 

 

With a soft laugh, Elizabeth nods and hurries along, “A day will come when the Great Dragon will face someone with the power to kill him. An extraordinary human. A human that holds the power of the Great Dragon inside himself.”

 

“Why?” Dean asks, barely containing his excitement.

 

“Because this human is destined to be the Great Dragon’s mate.”

 

For the first time, Dean asks a question he had never thought of before when being told the story. “If he’s the dragon’s mate, why does he have the power to kill him?”

 

“Because those we love the most are the ones who can hurt us the most. Always remember that, Dean. Always remember that love makes us vulnerable. But vulnerability is part of being human, so we embrace it. We love despite it. Because it is worth it.”

 

“So the Great Dragon loves this man even though he tries to kill him?”

 

“Yes. The Great Dragon will have a battle with his mate. He will be injured and close to death. But the human inside of his soul will come forth then and show itself to the man attacking him. He will show him the human that lives beneath the dragon’s skin. He will fall in love with the man, and the man will fall in love with him, even the parts of him that are dragon.”

 

“And  _ that _ ,” Dean finishes with a grin. “Is how he saves the dragon race. He shows the dangerous man with the power to kill him that the dragons are human too, in their own way. Even if they can’t turn human like he can. Even if they aren’t hybrids. All dragons have humanity inside of them. The two races don’t have to be enemies. Together, the Great Dragon and his mate will bring together the humans and the dragons, an alliance that will save more than the dragon race. An alliance that will save the world.”

 

Chills run up Dean’s spine when he’s done. Elizabeth looks at him like he’s something curious, and he almost asks her what she’s thinking, but then she shakes her head and smiles. “I think you’re special, Dean.”

 

“Me?” Dean scoffs. “I’m nothing. Nobody.”

 

“I have a feeling that’s not true. Not true at all.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr : Destiel-love-forever


	3. Chapter 3

At dinner, Dean looks across the table at the man he’s been slowly falling in love with. He gets to spend every day with Castiel Novak, the crowned prince, the man who will one day be king, and he’s never felt luckier. Well - he can’t say that for sure, considering he doesn’t remember much before waking up naked in the clearing, but he’s never felt luckier since that moment. 

 

“Have you heard the legend of the Great Dragon?” Dean asks in a quiet voice, feeling the need to whisper even though it’s just the two of them.

 

Castiel jumps, startled at his words. Bright blue eyes widen as he stares at Dean. “Wh- what? The - the legend - yes. Uh, yes. The legend of the - uh - the Great Dragon. Yes.”

 

Not sure why Castiel is getting so weird all of a sudden, Dean tilts his head and asks, “Do you not like the story?”

 

“No. I like it. I just,” he looks down at his plate and stabs a piece of chicken brutally. “Just don’t believe in that shit.”

 

“What shit?” 

 

“Dragons and all that.”

 

Dean puts his fork down. “What? You told me when we first met that you had been fighting a dragon. That makes no sense. How can you not believe in something you’ve seen and fought?”

 

A look of surprise, then fear, takes over Castiel’s face. He sputters and shakes his head. “I - uh - I didn’t - fuck.”

 

“Fuck,” Dean repeats, growing angry. When Castiel stays silent, Dean nearly growls, “So, you either lied to me then or now. Which is it?”

 

“Now,” Castiel grumbles. “I lied just now.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Because,” Castiel pauses. Sighs. Rubs a hand over his face. Sinks lower into his seat. Avoids Dean’s eyes. “Because I don’t want you to go lookin’ for them or some shit like that. I need you safe. Don’t get it in your head to go hunting the Great Dragon or anything.”

 

Dean shrugs, something unsettling twisting in his gut. It feels like he’s missing something. Something important. “It’d be cool though, right?”

 

“What would be?” Castiel asks with a snap of his head. 

 

“To go hunting the Great Dragon. Maybe I’m the human that’s his mate.”

 

Scoffing, Castiel pushes away from the table and stands up. “You’re not.”

 

“How do you know?”

 

“Because I do. You’re not the Great Dragon’s mate. Hell, the Great Dragon probably doesn’t even exist. Just a legend. There’s probably no such thing as a hybrid.” 

 

“You don’t know any of that.”

 

“Neither do you. You don’t even know your own identity. You don’t even know where you come from or who you are. You know a name and some flashing memories, some of which seem more like a dream considering you can’t fly while hunting.”

 

Dean turns his face away like he’s been slapped. A tear slips down his cheek. “You think I don’t know that? You think I don’t think about that every day? Jeez. I just wanted to know if you knew the story. I like the story. That’s all. I like it. I just wanted to share it.”

 

Castiel’s heart clenches. “Dean-”

 

“Never mind. Just,” Dean pushes to his feet, shaking his head and wiping his face clean. “Just never mind.”

 

“Dean-”

 

Dean runs from the chambers, the heavy door slamming closed behind him. Castiel stares at it for a moment, wondering if he should chase him or let him be. He ends up sinking back into his chair and putting his face in his hands. He shouldn’t have spoken to Dean like that, not when he’s been falling in love with the young man over the past few weeks, but he had been terrified. 

 

How did Castiel not see this before? He thought that Dean was this strange thing he had never heard of- but he had forgotten about the story of the Great Dragon. The story of the hybrid. The dragon that could turn human. The dragon that would turn human when his mate came to attack him. The dragon that would be close to death. The dragon that would fall in love with the man. The dragon that the man would fall in love with. 

 

“Holy shit,” Castiel whispers, his throat feeling ready to close. “Holy shit, Dean’s the Great Dragon.”

  
  


\-----

  
  


The day after their fight, things change. Not in a bad way. In a good way. A very good way. But it still worries Castiel, because it makes him feel as if the legend is true. It makes him fear that dean really is the Great Dragon. 

 

Things change when Dean comes in at nightfall to fill the stone basin with hot water for Castiel’s bath. He avoids eye contact with Castiel as the prince stands nearby in a robe, watching. Calculating. 

 

“I’m sorry,” he finally whispers to Dean, hating that they’d spent the entire day awkwardly skirting around each other in silence. “I was terrible to you, and I’m sorry. You were making me afraid but that was no excuse.”

 

“It’s fine,” Dean mumbles, shrugging a shoulder. “You’re right, anyway. Who am I? Definitely no one important enough to be the Great Dragon’s mate.”

 

“That’s not true. You’re very important. The Great Dragon would be lucky.” Castiel sucks in a shaky breath before continuing. “But you can’t be the Great Dragon’s mate.”

 

“Why?” 

 

“Because I want you to be mine.”

 

Dean’s bright green eyes snap up in a panic to look at Castiel. The water jug he’s pouring into the basin is empty but he continues to hold it above, tilted as if more water can fall from it. He stares at Castiel for what feels like forever before finally snapping out of the trance. With trembling hands, he puts the jug back down. Then he walks around the basin and approaches Castiel. 

 

When he’s standing just inches away from him, Dean smiles softly. “Yes.”

 

“Yes?” Castiel chokes out.

 

“Yes. I want to be your mate. You are much better than the Great Dragon anyway. I’d rather have you.”

 

“Really?”

 

“Definitely.” 

 

“I don’t have much to offer,” Castiel starts with a trembling whisper. “But I’ll give you whatever I can if you’ll be mine, Dean.”

 

“Don’t have much to offer?” Dean scoffs. “You’re a prince.”

 

“Yeah. A prince in the closet. I plan to come out when I’m the king, but until then I have to be careful. I can’t risk my father disowning me and passing the crown down to one of my younger brothers.”

 

Dean nods in understanding and smiles. Castiel swears he sees a flash of yellow in those usually pure green eyes but he decides it’s just the lighting and ignores it.  “I’ll wait. I’ll wait for as long as it takes, Castiel. I’m yours.”

 

“And I’m yours,” Castiel promises. 

 

Practically preening, Dean shimmies a little before leaning forward to kiss Castiel. Just as their lips are about to touch, a sharp knock on Castiel’s chamber door breaks them apart. They stare at each other in shock for a moment before Dean hurries off to answer it for him. 

 

As Castiel watches Dean retreat something finally dawns on him, his breath catching.

 

Dean is the Great Dragon, yes, but there’s more. Dean is the Great Dragon. But Castiel? Castiel is the Great Dragon’s mate.  _ Holy shit.  _

  
  


\-------

  
  


In a near panic, Castiel corners his best friend, the palace magician’s son.

 

“Chuck!” he whisper-shouts, grabbing his best friend’s arm and yanking him into an empty room off the main hall. He closes the door and backs him into the opposite wall to keep them from being able to be overheard from anyone eavesdropping in the hallway. 

 

Chuck pushes away his curly hair and scowls at his best friend. “What? What’s wrong, Cas? What happened?”

 

“I need you to tell me everything there is to know about the Great Dragon.”

 

“I - you -  _ what _ ? The Great Dragon?” He shakes his head in confusion. “What the fuck?”

 

“The Great Dragon. What do you know. Besides the typical shit they put in the stories for the children. What else is there to know?”

 

“I don’t know,” Chuck answers honestly. “I haven’t studied many legends yet. Dad said those can wait for later. They aren’t as important as learning spells and potions.”

 

“But your dad. Would he know?”

 

Chuck steps away and looks at him, scanning every part of Castiel. Then, carefully, he nods. “Yes. My dad would know.”

 

Castiel turns to leave, saying over his shoulder, “Great, thanks.”

 

“Wait! Cas!” Chuck grabs his arm and yanks him back. “What is going on?”

 

“I have to talk to your dad. Now.”

 

“Why?”

 

“I - because,” Castiel takes a breath and all the panic and terror bubbling beneath the surface comes up and swallows him whole, suffocating him. He can trust Chuck and his father. Trust them with his life. But this isn't just his life. It’s Dean’s too. “I’ll tell you after, okay? Just trust me right now. Trust that I need to hear this first. I need to talk to your dad. Then I’ll explain. Okay?”

 

Chuck sighs but agrees. “Fine. Let’s go find my dad, then. Hear what there is to know about the Great Dragon.”

  
  


\------

  
  


After Castiel has heard the legend retold to him by Chuck’s father, this time with a few more details than normal, he starts to process. Then he begins to ask the most important questions.

 

“How does the dragon remember?” Castiel asks, thankful his voice isn’t giving away how freaked out he is. “Does it just come back over time, or?”

 

“I’m sorry, Castiel,” Chuck’s father says quietly, shaking his head. “But remember what?”

 

“His life. Who he is. When he turns human and loses his memory, how long does it take for him to gain it back? How does he get it? Is there something he has to do or is it just gradual or what?”

 

Chuck and his father stare at Castiel, both confused. This time, Chuck speaks. “I never heard about him losing his memory.”

 

“I haven’t either,” Chuck’s father muses. “Where did you hear that?”

 

“Oh, uh. I don’t know. I mean… I think I heard it… somewhere.” 

 

He starts to feel panicked. Castiel knows he should stop now but he can’t. He’s desperate for answers. He’s terrified of not knowing. 

 

Then again, he’s terrified of what he might find out, too. 

 

Eventually, Chuck’s father leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “Why this sudden interest, Your Highness?” 

 

Feeling his heart trying to beat out of his throat, Castiel manages to whisper, “Just curious.”

 

“Bullshit,” Chuck calls out, ignoring the dirty look from his father at his disrespect toward the crowned prince. “Does this have to do with Dean?”

 

“What? No!”

 

“Who is he, Cas? Who is he  _ really _ ?”

 

“I told you,” Castiel says calmly, despite the frantic things happening inside him. “He’s Balthazar’s cousin.”

 

“Bullshit!”

 

“Chuck,” his father warns, putting a hand out to stop him. 

 

Shaking his dad off, Chuck gets closer to Castiel and locks eyes with him. “Come on, Cas. This is us. We don’t keep secrets. Ever.”

 

Castiel has to look away, his gut churning. He’s right. He was there when Castiel’s mom died. When Castiel had his first sip of ale. When Castiel was knighted. When Castiel had his first kiss with a girl, and was confused as all hell because it felt wrong. When he had his first kiss with a guy, and was terrified because it felt absolutely right. Never once did Chuck judge. Never once did he tell Castiel’s secrets. 

 

Chuck’s dad stands up and clears his throat, understanding that this is something Castiel won’t say in front of him. “I’ll leave you two be. Just let me know if ya need me.”

 

The moment the heavy wooden door closes, Chuck snaps his eyes to Castiel and says, “He’s not Balthazar’s cousin.” 

 

It’s not a question, so Castiel doesn’t bother with a response. Instead, he admits, “Dean doesn’t know who he is.”

 

“But you do.” 

 

Castiel looks at the open book with the Great Dragon myth. The illustration is wrong. “It’s not blue.”

 

“What?” Chuck asks incredulously, throwing his hand in the air. “What the fuck are you talking about, Cas?”

 

“The Great Dragon. It’s not blue. It’s green. Bright green.” He looks at Chuck, heart racing. “The exact same as Dean’s eyes.” 

 

“Fucking hell, Cas.” Chuck gets to his feet and begins to pace. “Fucking hell.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I mean-”

 

“I know.”

 

Chuck stops, staring down at the book with his hands resting on his hips. He sighs heavily. “Green. Really?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“And no memory?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“But that’s not in the book.”

 

Castiel scoffs. “Neither is the correct color. Or the fact, for your information, that when he turns human he shows up fucking naked.”

 

“Woah. No. Too much information.”

 

“Sorry.” Castiel scrubs a hand down his face. “I just can’t talk to anyone else about this and I feel ready to burst.”

 

“It’s fine. We’ve got this. We have this figured out.” Chuck laughs. “Okay, no we don’t, but we will. If we could handle the Quest of Edlund like we did, we can certainly handle this.”

 

This makes Castiel feel a lot better. For the first time all day, he perks up. “Alright. So, what do we do?”

 

“Well, first, fill me in on everything. Minus any naked details.” Chuck’s eyes widen and he whips around to stare at his best friend in shock. “Holy fucking shit, Cas.”

 

“What?”

 

“You’re the Great Dragon’s mate, aren’t you?”

 

Castiel slumps back down, all the weight of the world returning. “Yeah. I… I think I am.”

 

“Fuck.” Chuck collapses back into his chair, scowling. “Fuck.”

 

“That doesn’t sound like the man who just said we’ll figure this out. We’ll handle this. We can do this.”

 

“Sorry. Sorry. Just… processing.” Chuck stares at the book for a moment before closing it and pushing it away. “Re-start. Pretend I didn’t panic there. We can do this.”

 

Castiel isn’t so sure, but there’s no other option, so he sits back in his chair to get comfortable and begins. 

  
  


\-----

  
  


When Castiel gets back to his chambers, his mind is spinning. He plans on going to sleep early so he’s rested for tomorrow. Chuck convinced him to tell Dean the truth at breakfast. He knows it’s the right thing, but he’s so nervous he can’t get his body to stop shaking. 

 

Unfortunately, his chambers isn’t empty. Dean is standing in fancy clothes that he must have borrowed from someone. Beside him is the dining table with a deep red cloth runner down the center. It’s full of dripping candlesticks and plates of steaming food. The entire chamber is warm and dim, the flames dancing on the wall behind Dean, making it look as if the fire is coming from his body. 

 

“Wow,” Castiel says quietly, confused. “What’s - uh - whatchya doin’ Dean?”

 

“Balthazar helped me. I figured we could, ya know, have a date or whatever. The other staff talks about having them and I know we aren’t… together yet, but I thought it’d be nice to… I dunno.” Dean’s face turns bright red. “Sorry, this was stupid, wasn’t it? I’ll just clean everything up. I’m sorry, I should-”

 

“No, no, no. It’s great, Dean. I swear.” Castiel comes forward, smiling at him. “It’s perfect.”

 

“Really?”

 

Castiel nods. “Really. Sit. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.”

 

Looking relieved, Dean gestures for Castiel to sit at the head of the table before taking a seat to his left. He pours them both wine and waits for Castiel to fill his plate first, knowing that’s the etiquette. As they begin to eat, Dean launches into a story about the cook. He tells it so well that Castiel feels like he was there. Castiel laughs as he watches his hands fly around, eyes bright and grin wide. With every word, Castiel falls more in love with Dean. 

 

By the time their plates are empty, Castiel is buzzed from the wine and feeling like he’s spending his last day on Earth. Tomorrow, when he tells Dean the truth, Dean could get upset. He could leave. Tonight could be the last time they’re together like this. 

 

He has to take advantage. 

 

When Dean stands up to start clearing the table, Castiel stands up too. He grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him forward until their chests are pressed together. With trembling hands, Castiel cups Dean’s cheeks and stares into his eyes. “I love you.”

 

Dean’s eyes go wide and then he’s launching forward, crashing his lips against Castiel’s in a heated kiss. 

 

A sizzling sensation travels between their lips and Castiel gasps, stumbling back and placing a hand over his mouth. Dean stares at him with cloudy green eyes, breathing rapidly, every muscle jerking. He squeezes his eyes shut for a few seconds, then slowly opens them to look at Dean. All Castiel sees there is rage, betrayal, and sadness. 

 

“How could you?”

 

Not understanding, Castiel takes a step forward. Dean shakes his head and steps back. “Dean, you’re the one who kissed me.”

 

“Don’t play dumb.” Before Castiel can tell him that he’s truly not pretending, that the confusion is very real, Dean’s storming out of the room. He curses under his breath and starts to chase him, hoping that no one will question why they’re fighting.

 

It doesn’t take long. Dean stops only a few feet from the chamber door, standing in front of a window. Castiel starts to shout but Dean’s already slamming through the glass. His gut sinking, Castiel rushes over to see if Dean’s okay. It’s a far fall. 

 

But there’s nothing on the ground. 

 

With a flick of his eyes, Castiel finds him. A bright green dragon flying through the air. Every beat of his wings is angry and harsh. By the time he’s out of sight, Castiel is on the floor crying. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr : Destiel-love-forever


	4. Chapter 4

 

Dean sighs in relief when he returns to his nest. Even though he wasn’t aware of what he had forgotten during his time in the castle, there had still been a lingering ache inside him. He knew the whole time something was wrong. Something was missing. 

 

This was it. 

 

Dean lands outside the opening of the nest, ducking his dragon head to enter the cave. He’s immediately met with warmth and laughter, the smell of food lingering in the air. The first to see him is one of the baby dragons from the most recent hatching. He squeaks at the sight of his king and starts toward him, drawing attention from the other dragons. Dean coos, blowing air through his nose at his followers to let them know he appreciates their attention, before pushing past them to the back corner of the cave. 

 

When he sees his mom, he turns back to his human form. She comes forward with a grin and wraps him in a warm hug. He pulls away and accepts a blanket from one of the other humans, covering his nakedness. No one is bothered by it, but now that he’s been in the castle so long it feels strange to be naked in front of others. He’s used to clothing. 

 

“Where is he?” his mom says in confusion. “Didn’t you bring him?”

 

Dean snorts in anger. “I think you were wrong, ma.”

 

“What do you mean?” His mom exchanges a look with the other humans, her eyes lingering especially on their magician. “Did you not fight him? Was he not where he was supposed to be?”

 

“Oh, I fought him. And I was injured. And I turned human.” Dean grits his teeth. “But for some reason I don’t understand, I lost my memory.”

 

“Your memory?” the magician asks in wonder, stepping forward. “What do you mean?”

 

“I woke up naked in a field with Ca - the man. I couldn’t remember anything besides part of what mom told me before I left here. He took me into the castle - he’s a fucking prince, by the way - and dressed me in clothes and gave me a job and I was so confused. I didn’t even know I was a dragon!”

 

The magician’s eyebrows raise. “That wasn’t supposed to happen. You - you were supposed to retain your memories.”

 

“Yeah, well, you were wrong. About that. About everything. There’s no way that Ca - that  _ he  _ is my mate.”

 

His mom frowns, stepping forward before giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “Honey, what happened?”

 

“The bastard lied to me. He - he knew the whole time I was a dragon. He had been fighting me. He saw me turn human. And he lied. Pretended he had just come across me. I was made to believe I was just this naked, confused, forgetful commoner. He brought me into his home and made up a story for me. I -” Dean clenches his fists, trying to control his anger. Little sparks come from his nostrils and he feels his back itch where his wings would grow if he allowed them. “I fell in love with him.”

 

“But that’s good!” the magician cheers. 

 

“Yeah, honey, that was supposed to happen. He’s your mate.”

 

“No,” Dean growls, his rage rising. “No. There’s no way that son of a bitch is my mate. I refuse.”

 

“Okay.” The magician puts a hand up, trying to calm him down. “Now, I understand you’re probably upset, but try to put aside your current emotions. This is bigger than you, Dean. This is the fate of your entire race. And mine. This alliance needs to work. The gods have willed it. The Great Dragon, after many centuries, was born. That’s a sign. It means you’re needed. If you don’t do this, if you don’t fulfill your destiny, then destruction will follow.”

 

Dean huffs. He knows the magician is right, but that doesn’t make it any easier. All he can think about was the way it felt to kiss Castiel. For just a second, he had been able to enjoy it. But then the memories had swarmed him and he had felt so betrayed he wanted to kill the man. He has no idea how he controlled himself enough to leave instead. 

 

_ How can he love someone who lied to him like Castiel did? _ The prince let him worry himself sick over his past. He felt so incredibly confused, and lost, and hopeless, and Castiel just let him stay like that.

 

“Why don’t you get some rest, honey?” his mom suggests, gesturing toward his personal nest made up of rare cloths he’s collected over the years. “Maybe you’ll feel better once the initial shock has subsided.”

 

Unconvinced, but tired, Dean nods and heads over to his pile of brightly colored fabric. He curls up on himself and closes his eyes, feeling lost all over again. It’s even worse this time, because he knows what he’s missing. 

 

Castiel. 

  
  


\-----

  
  


A week went by. Then another. And one more. Castiel was going insane. He had every knight in the kingdom doing sweeps of the village and nearby forest areas for Dean. The guards were ordered to bring Dean in if he was ever spotted. He forced Chuck to do a location spell, which didn’t work for some reason. Chuck’s dad believes it’s because of Dean’s magic. It’s probably protecting him from being found. 

 

Castiel gets distracted before he can figure out a new plan. He’s woken up in the middle of the night by the palace doctor and hurried to his father’s chambers. By the time Castiel is stepping up to his father’s bedside, his father is barely breathing. They can’t explain what happened, but it seems natural. No foul play. The doctor’s best guess is something with his father’s heart. 

 

None of it really registers for Castiel. All he can do is stand beside the bed his father is dying in, staring at the man he spent his life looking up to. The strong, capable king who ruled the kingdom with a heavy hand. The king who was feared by all other kings. The king who was a knight, a war hero, and a strong dueler. He’s so small now. Castiel can’t believe how small he looks. In just the past few hours, his skin has sunken in and turned paper white. His body seems to have lost 20 pounds. 

 

His father's blue eyes blink up at him slowly, like he's trying desperately to focus on Castiel. He moves a hand toward his son but can't get the strength to reach him. Castiel steps closer, sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his father's hand in his. 

 

This is the moment it sinks it. 

 

He has to be the king now. 

 

The weight of the world is on his shoulders. 

 

"Cas'ie'?" his dad slurs. 

 

"Yes, father?"

 

"Be - be stron', son."

 

Be strong. Of course. Why would Castiel assume a  _ You'll do great  _ or an  _ I love you?  _ Just an order to be strong. An order not to get 'over emotional' like his father was always yelling at him for growing up. 

 

Be strong for the country. 

 

Be strong for the family.

 

Be strong for the dynasty. 

 

"Don't worry," Castiel mutters. “I’ve got it handled, sir.”

 

The king’s eyes slide closed and he lets go with a final puff of breath. After a few seconds, the doctor steps forward and places two fingers against his neck. In a voice that’s so incredibly  _ final _ , he states, “The king is dead.”

 

Everything in the room stills. It’s like Castiel’s entire fucking world just stops.

 

Then, slowly, one by one, people turn their eyes on him. It’s an unspoken shift of power. The moment Castiel slips into the roll of King. No, there’s no fancy music. No audience. No crown. That will all happen tomorrow. But this is when he starts. 

 

Castiel is the king. 

 

He lifts his chin, a tear slipping down his cheek. It’s the only tear he’ll allow. A tear they’ll all believe is being shed for his father, even though the person Castiel is really mourning is himself. 

 

“Prepare the body. We’ll put him to rest at dawn,” Castiel orders. 

 

“Yes, sire,” they all say quietly, beginning to move around. Before anyone can grab him, Castiel is practically sprinting out the door and out of the castle. It isn’t until he reaches the edge of the woods, when he’s collapsing into the damp grass, that he feels like he can finally breathe. 

 

“Dean,” he whispers as he looks up at the sky. “Dean, please. I need you. I need you. I need you. I need -” he breaks down, sobbing so hard his head gets fuzzy from lack of oxygen. He pushes his face against a wad of fabric from his cloak to muffle the sounds of his grief. In his mind, Castiel continues to chant  _ I need you, I need you, I need you.  _ He does it until the sun begins to rise. Then he wipes his face, clears his throat, and gets to his feet. 

 

He has a father to bury. 

 

He has a legacy to uphold. 

 

He has a kingdom to rule. 

  
  


\------

  
  


The murmur of the crowd dies down when the knights get into position. A trumpet plays a melancholy tune. After a few seconds, four more join in, and the melody becomes triumphant. A celebration. Castiel Novak appears in the doorway, scanning the crowd. Dean ducks behind someone and tilts his head down in respect as everyone else does the same. Once he’s watched Castiel’s red cloak pass by in his peripheral vision, Dean looks up again. He watches Castiel ascend the stairs with his shoulders squared and his chin held high. No one would be able to tell that the weight of the entire world has been placed on this young man’s shoulders. 

 

An impossible burden. 

 

Dean’s heart aches as he fights to stay where he is. The air becomes eerily quiet when Castiel reaches the top of the stairs and gets to his knees. The crowd is silent, the trumpets have stopped, the knights are standing still to avoid noise from their chainmail. 

 

It dawns on Dean how alone Castiel must feel up there. 

 

The vows begin. Castiel solemnly swears to protect the kingdom and the people within it, to never abuse his power, to be fair and just, to show mercy. It’s shorter than you would think it should be, considering the importance of the moment. No more than two minutes. Then the crown is being placed on Castiel’s head as he’s declared King. 

 

After a second of hesitation, Castiel stands and turns to face his people. They’re all erect and proud, grinning at him as they accept their new ruler. They begin to chant, “Long live the king!” but Castiel isn’t focused on that. He’s studying every individual person his eyes fall upon. The pressure is immense as it builds on his chest. 

 

“Long live the king!”

 

These are the people he is now responsible for. 

 

“Long live the king!”

 

These are the people who will put their faith in him.

 

“Long live the king!”

 

These are the people who will trust him.

 

“Long live the king!”

 

Castiel’s eyes scan the knights. Men he’s fought beside in battle. Good men. Fearsome men. 

 

These are the people who will follow Castiel into the pits of hell without complaint. 

 

“Long live the king!”

 

His attention hitches. That man… that particular man looks familiar. So very familiar. 

 

“Long live the king!”

 

The brightest green eyes framed in a face full of freckles snap up and lock with Castiel’s gaze. The two stare at each other. Hearts racing. Ears ringing. Breath catching. 

 

“Long live the king!”

 

Dean smiles, bright and proud. There’s no lingering hate or resentment toward Castiel. The king doesn’t know what that means, but he doesn’t care. All he can think of is how desperately he needed this man earlier, and now he’s here. Dean  _ came _ . Dean came  _ back _ . Dean came back to  _ him _ . 

 

He watches as Dean’s lips part. Then the man he loves is chanting with everyone else, still smiling. “Long live the king! Long live the king! Long live the king!”

  
  


\----

  
  


Dean’s waiting for Castiel when he gets to his bed chambers after the celebratory feast. There’s a quiet moment between them as they stand a few feet apart. One moves first, they’re not quite sure who, and then they’re colliding in a tangle of limbs and cloaks and lips. Castiel’s crown falls to the floor. When Dean guides Castiel toward the bed, he makes sure they go around the gold headpiece. 

 

Gasping, Castiel pulls away just before he’s pushed onto the mattress. He pants, “What does this mean?”

 

“It means that I’m still furious with you.” Dean grabs his face and kisses him violently. “It means that I’m still so fucking in love with you.” He nips at the bottom lip of Castiel’s perfect mouth. “It means you’re King now.” Dean licks into his mouth, soaking up the taste of exquisite wine still lingering on his tongue. “It means we’re together now, and forever.” He pulls back just enough to rub the tip of his nose against the tip of Castiel’s. “It means we have work to do.”

  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on tumblr : Destiel-love-forever

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr! Destiel-love-forever


End file.
